


Fired Up

by mhs0501



Series: Hansoff Saga [2]
Category: Frozen (2013), Frozen Fever (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Frozen (2013) Fusion, Birthday, Birthday Party, Birthday Presents, Duh Again, F/M, Follow the string, Frozen Fever, Hans Has Fire Powers, Homosexuality is suddenly accepted in Post-Renaissance Europe, Let's see where this all goes, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Post-Frozen (2013), Song - Freeform, The Southern Isles, duh - Freeform, fingers crossed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-01
Updated: 2015-07-01
Packaged: 2018-04-07 02:05:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4245408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mhs0501/pseuds/mhs0501
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A few months after the events in Playing With Fire, Hans and Kristoff are now courting, Elsa and Pedar are engaged, Ashley is well... Ashley. To make up for all those years separated, Hans goes all out to Kristoff to give him the greatest birthday ever. But when Hans is struck down with a fever, his powers may put more than the party at risk.</p><p>This is a follow-up of many to come Hansoff stories. I can only hope that you like it. Comments are appreciated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fired Up

In the many months that followed Prince Hans’ return, quite a few things had changed throughout the nation of the Southern Isles. The sun still rose and set, rain still fell on those few rare occasions, the forests had fully recovered from the Fire Princes accidental heatwave, and the waves of the harbor still lapped at the shore. But in the world of Hans, many things had changed. For the better, he would have said.

While he was still prince, there were a fair few who believed a man who had destroyed livelihoods; albeit unintentionally, deserved to be burnt at the stake. It wasn’t like those few claims ever built to anything, but it hurt all the same. And while he and Kristoff had started a relationship above their long friendship, it was a controversial move on his part that caused his brother and the king, Thomas, to receive much griping from the council as well as the church. But in the end it was stated that there was no law against homosexuality in the Southern Isles, and therefore nothing to be bothering him about. The rest of the city had not shown any difference in behavior after Hans and Kristoff had announced they had entered a courtship, most deciding it was none of their business.

If there were two people who were completely supportive of this, it was Official Lumberwoman Elsa, and her fiance Pedar. The pair had been invited for lunch in the castle, and it took all of ten minutes for her to correctly guess why they had been invited. At first, she was a bit surprised, but smiled at the pair nonetheless, pointing out that the trolls had in fact been right about his true love awaiting him in the palace. Pedar on the other hand was not surprised at all, and had been betting on the prince and the iceman forming a union, and joked that he was already waiting for them to get married, to which Elsa elbowed him in the stomach to keep him quiet.

Ashley had been present at the lunch, and instantly started going on and on about how much fun a wedding would be, much to both men’s embarrassment. Olaf, being a reindeer, hadn’t expressed his opinion outside of a small grunt that meant approval in Elsa’s eyes.

Thomas had originally been silent about the matter, voicing his opinion when his youngest brother couldn’t hear. He had later admitted to being disturbed by the idea, but realized Hans’ happiness came first.

Now it had been nine months since the Great Cooling, and it was a very special day in the palace of the Southern Isles. His arrangement to Kristoff staying in the castle being approved, he was now a full time resident as much as Hans or any of his remaining five brothers, seven of them having abandoned their birthright after Hans’ chaotic heatwave and none having returned aside from the occasional family gathering.

That hardly proved to be a problem when setting up his birthday party in the castle's courtyard.

When first asked by Hans when exactly his birthday was; Kristoff admitted he had kind of forgotten it. This came at little surprise from either of them, Kristoff being an extremely busy man and not really being into huge celebrations aside from perhaps Christmas. It took many hours of scouring the nation's records before they found the birthday they were looking for, as well as finding out Kristoff was a year younger than Hans at twenty. It took no amount of effort to convince Kristoff to celebrate when Hans ‘neglected’ to tell his lover.

The courtyard had been set for a gala that would have made most Roman patricians scoff in jealousy, the theme fitting the November birthdate. The color of almost everything, save for the castle itself was a burgundy red. The tablecloths, the bunting, even the laced dots on the cake was a delicate shade of scarlet. Chestnut trees were planted throughout the stony plaza, the small nuts scattered on the ground like the autumn leaves. The black obsidian arches still graced the courtyard, just as Hans had left them in anticipation for the party. It was coordinated perfectly, much to the thirteenth prince’s delight.

At the moment, the Fire Prince was working with his hand draped inches from the top tier of the four layer cake, trying to concentrate his glass making into a topper fit for an ice cutter. It would need to be special, something that said ‘Kristoff’. With a deep breath and a swirl of his hand, a glass Kristoff in his signature turquoise-blue Henley shirt with long sleeves, and a black vest with patterned trim, his large hands held modestly behind his back.

“Hmmm… no. Too lonely.” Hans shook his head and with a swirl of his hand the figure dissipated to nothingness as he tried to think of another idea.

It came out in the form of him and Kristoff on the evening of his eldest brother coronation, the glass shards falling into a statue of the prince and Kristoff in their formal wear; but there were one or two… no, three problems with that one. Hans wanted to capture the occasion as a casual party that was going to be a blast in the end. Second, it showed them in the past; before they had officially renewed their lives; besides, thinking of that night made the thirteenth prince shiver, remembering the fight they had had. Why couldn’t there have been a moment of happiness before that? He wondered. Lastly, and worst of all, there was at least in realistic terms, three feet of space between the ice cutter and the prince. That was what bothered him the most.

“Stiff.” He couldn’t take his eyes off the cake topper as his mind drifted to that moment on the lake when Kristoff had sacrificed himself. Unfortunately, that was what the next cake topper came into existence as. Only this time, it seemed to be only a ploy that Kristoff suddenly appeared far more buff, and instead of the rags of his shirt, there was nothing to cover his broad and muscular physique. If it hadn’t been such a heartbreaking and serious moment, Hans would have chuckled at his ridiculous (albeit lustful) imagination.

“Well, I can’t do that.” He bit his cheek and tried again, taking another deep breath.

What came out next was definitely closer to what he had dreamt about. It depicted the two men in formal suits, as well as the bishop in front of them with a book of wedding vows. Holding eachothers hands, gazing deeply into eachothers eyes.

“Maybe…” He shrugged.

But sadly, it wasn’t what was needed for the occasion. However, Hans looked around quickly to see if Elsa, Pedar, or Ashley was looking, and snatched the wedding topper from the cake and stuffing it into his breast pocket,  not wanting to part with the possibility. After all, it could happen, right?

Hans readied his hand once more, thinking about something happy and hoping that would influence his topper to come out the way he wanted instead of the way it wanted. With a deep sigh, the prince recalled all the great things that had come out of his courtship with the iceman. First came the kiss they shared on the ice rink that day after the Great Cooling. It had been small and luckily unseen, but that hardly mattered. The second was a picnic on a tall grassy hill that Elsa had orchestrated shortly after they announced they were courting, the day ending on a sour and funny note because the stump Hans had chosen to sit on caved in to reveal a nest of red ants that quickly found their way into the seat of his breeches. It had taken three hours of careful and awkward examination on the icemans part to remove all of them, Hans taking great delight in scorching the fire ants like a child would with a magnifying glass. The third was when the both of them took a two week vacation up to Hans’ palace in the mountains, the prince having since repaired the damage done by Pepper and the Weselton guards. As well as the vacation, Hans took the time to expand his palace by another story and on Kristoff’s recommendation, create some furniture for it, including a large double bed for the two of them to share.

They had used it the whole time, but chose to go back to seperate beds until things got more serious.

The final result of the cake topper was a lump of sparkling volcanic glass that shifted into the form of Hans and Kristoff skating in camel position, Hans leading his friend on the glassy surface. And yet he still didn’t think it was good enough.

“Come on Hans.” He coaxed himself back from the large dessert. “This is for Kristoff. You can do this.” He sighed and ran a hand through his copper brown hair, ash particles sticking onto the individual strands like sequins, which the prince quickly brushed away in annoyance.    

“Relax!” Elsa called from where she was setting one of the tables. “It looks fine.” She stopped and admired the cake topper from behind Hans.

The prince released a stressed moan. “Oh; I just want it to be perfect.” He refused to take his eye off of the glass topper as if it would be snatched up by a bird if he looked away for even a second.

“Look, Kristoff won’t care if it’s absolutely perfect or not. It’s the thought that counts.” Elsa patted the prince on the back and looked up at Pedar, who was busy finishing up the banner they had worked on.

“I sure hope so, at least for my sake.” Her fiance said from where he took on the top of the ladder, a paintbrush in hand. Both of them turned to look at the banner. It consisted of twenty two paper squares hung in a long line that stretched across the courtyard in a loose fashion, the eight colors using no form of pattern save for whoever interpreted that way. Greens, blues, pinks, yellows, reds, and purples spelled out in crudely written letters: HAPPY BIRTHDAY KRISTOFF! Elsa attributed that the reason for it being so messy was first, Pedar wasn’t very literate, two, he wasn’t artistic, and three, he was using mops instead of paintbrushes as well as Olaf the reindeer for a paint bucket holster, his branching antlers acting as perfect beams for the buckets to rest on. 

Elsa bit the inside of her cheek, "To the bitter end." She mumbled. Hans expressed an uneasy but approving laugh, secretly wishing he had thought to hire someone else to make the banner when he remembered it was the thought that counted. “It looks awful, huh?” Pedar admitted and hopped off the ladder, to which Elsa answered with a shaky “Yeah… but it’s a start.” She shrugged and pulled her lover in for a kiss.

“Trust me, I’m no Michelangelo.” He chuckled lightly and planted a kiss on her nose before Hans looked around to survey the courtyard, as well at turning his head absentmindedly towards the direction Kristoff’s room.

“Look, Elsa,” He looked at the both of them with the slightest hint of worry. “Are you sure I can leave you and Pedar in charge while I take Kristoff out?” Hans couldn’t help but notice the collar on Elsa’s purple jacket had folded up, and leaned over to straighten it.

“Yes, I’m sure.” She nodded after Hans had finished fiddling with her jacket.

Hans sighed as if the answer wasn’t enough, and walked over to one of the tables and straightened a vase of cosmos to make it aligned with the rest of the place cards, dishes and silverware. “Because I don’t want anything to happen to this courtyard.” He backed up to see if he had done the job right and absentmindedly wiped his nose on the sleeve of his shirt.

“What could happen?” Pedar shrugged. And even though the question was rhetorical, it was answered in less than three seconds.

“Ashley!” Hans looked on at the little ash sculpture, his mouth agape. “What are you doing?” He held his hands up in fear as the couple saw what she was doing.

Ashley had changed very little in the near year that had passed by, her spirits always high. She had the mindset of a ten year old girl that was so realistic she felt like a daughter to Kristoff and Hans. The ashgirl was perched on one of the wooden chairs that she had pulled up to the cake table. She turned to face prince Hans, and when she did, Elsa and Pedar stifled a laugh. Her twigs were held in an endearing and feared manner that suggested she had been hiding something. What that something was, was the large ring of white buttercream icing and graham cracker crumbs around her mouth that was easily seen on her speckled complexion. As well as that, there was an obviously medium sized chunk missing from the bottom tier of the large cake.    

Hans expected her to come clean, but instead she said in a very innocent tone: “I’m not eating cake; if that’s what you’re thinking!” Which was clearly a lie.

“Ashley,” He knitted his eyebrow together and walked over to the cake and the ashgirl, who looked down at the ground sadly like a three years being caught after smashing a vase.

“But it’s a carrot cake!” She tried to protest that the dessert to too tempting, but Hans wasn’t buying it. But that was no reason to be harsh.  

“And it’s for Kristoff.” He said gently looking into Ashley’s eyes.

The ashgirl frowned. “And it’s for Kristoff.” She repeated sadly before spitting out the lump of cake and holding it out to the prince, who chuckled.

“Go on. Just this once.” He stood up to look around for any other things that were out of place as Ashley stuffed the chunk of carrot cake back into her mouth, sighing at its deliciousness. But before he could start towards a column of volcanic glass that was an inch too short, a loud ringing sounded across the kingdom signaling it was ten o’clock.

“It’s time!” Hans jumped.

“It’s time!” Ashley jumped off the chair and repeated. “Wait… for what?” She asked with all the innocence she could muster.

“Okay, okay.” The thirteenth prince took a quick breath to calm himself. “You’re sure you’ve got this?” He looked over at Elsa and Pedar.

“We’re sure.” Pedar wrapped an arm around his fiance.

Hans began slowly backing to the doors that led to the front entrance of the castle, the balcony overhead having been repaired. He wanted to make sure that nothing would go wrong. “Don’t let anyone in until we’re ready; oh, except Thomas!” The prince remembered his brother wanting to help celebrate.

“Alright. I’ll keep both eyes open.” Elsa nodded.

“You need both eyes to keep lookout for that cake.” Hans responded with a stern glare at the cake before moving both hands up in a final motion to spread his magic to the two bare conifer trees. The branches ignited with a pale blue flame, the ashes twisting into beautiful designs that snaked up the trunk and branches like ivy.

“I know!” Elsa rolled her eyes.

“And try not to touch anything!” The prince backed to the tall double doors, pulling them open with one hand and going inside with the other.

“We’re just gonna stand here.” Pedar called as the door slammed and Hans went off to wake his lover.

______________________________________________________________________________

Kristoff hadn’t slept so well in months, at least, not with his nightmares. The blonde’s mind was plagued by horrible visions almost every night since the Great Cooling, almost all of them involving that one incident with Hans and Katharine. In some, he was too late, in others, he was too soon and it killed them both, and on the worst few occasions, he would be held in place by lumps of gooey magma while the mad queen killed Hans, which in turn killed Ashley, Pedar, Olaf, and Elsa, in that order. The worst part was her voice, mocking the iceman that he couldn’t break free as the sword would plunge into his friend’s neck and back; the redhead not making a sound until he went still, Ashley would then disintegrate into nothing more than a pile of ashes. Then she would move to Elsa, Pedar would jump in front of the blow as the brunette would break down in tears as he would collapse. Katharine would laugh at her pity and then decapitate Olaf before slicing the lumberjack to gore. It made Kristoff wake up on more than once, sometimes screaming, other times mumbling, but every time he went to check on all of them; even Olaf, to make sure they were still okay.                

And tonight was the first night that there hadn’t been anything to fear. Why, Kristoff couldn’t say. All he could recall was stirring when Hans appeared at the opposite side of his bed.

A snarky and excited smile creeped onto Hans’ face as he got on his knees and slowly rose like the dawn. “Psst; Kristoff,” He whispered, but the blonde only stirred in the covers and mumbled something.

“Yeah? Whaddya want?” He murmured, still off in deep sleep.

The prince rose a little farther, his neck barely over the side of the large bed. “Happy birthday,” He sang in a quiet whisper.

But instead of an instant wake up, Kristoff snuggled into his pillow. “To you…” He sung back in a groggy manner.

Hans laughed and stood a little farther up and placed a hand on his lovers bare back, petting the skin in a quick motion as his hand heated up. “It’s your birthday Silly!” He laughed.

“To me… it’s my birthday…” Kristoff replied until his eyes popped open and his sat up, rubbing the hot spot on his back. “I hate it when you do that, Hans. It may be my birthday but I didn’t wish for a hot stone massage.” He couldn’t help laughing at the prince's giddy expression and the irritation of being roused melted away like a chunk of ice on an iron skillet.

“I know. But you just looked so peaceful.” Hans joked and he tore the covers away from his lover to reveal his cloth undergarments.

“True. But really Hans, I don’t want anything big for my birthday. it wasn’t a big deal back home and it shouldn’t be now.” He held his large hand up in a gentle stop motion.

“Well it won’t be. That is unless you consider Elsa, Pedar, Olaf, Ashley and me to be big deal.” Hans nodded, neglecting to mention the entire castle staff and the few dignitaries and visiting royalty that celebrated Erik’s coronation. It would be a big deal if he wanted it to be, whether Kristoff wanted it or not. Hans owed it to him.

“Of course not.” He kissed Hans on the cheek. “As long as I have that I’ll be fine.” The iceman gave a curt nod. “I still can’t believe it’s my birthday.”

“Well you can count on me. It’s gonna be perfect.” Hans held up his right hand as if taking an oath.

_“You’ve never had a real birthday before,”_ He helped Kristoff off the bed with both hands clasped. _“Except of course the ones you spent outside my locked door.”_ His gaze fell to the floor for a moment before taking a covered hanger off of the door handle of the closets. Kristoff’s brown eyes lit up with enthusiasm as he took the hanger and ran behind the dressing screen.

_“So I’m here way too late,”_ The prince followed his lover. _“To help you celebrate,”_ He heard Kristoff grunt as he struggled to get into his breeches quick enough. Hans twiddled with his thumbs. _“And be your birthday date, if I may-”_ He stopped short as a large sneeze came to him and he released it.

Kristoff heard this from behind the screen, and he thought for a moment. He hadn’t recalled Hans ever getting sick during childhood. But he had normally been so silent, Kristoff didn’t think he’d have been able to tell either way. He stepped out from behind the screen in the outfit Hans had picked out for him, and the iceman had to admit, it was a handsome set of clothes.

The outfit consisted of a ink grey cutaway collared shirt/jacket combo that was tucked into the black breeches, a burgundy patterned sash Hans had cut from the same shade as the color outside. It was warm, comfortable, and very simple, just as Kristoff liked it.

“Hans, I heard that. Are you sure you want to go through with this?” He asked the prince, who rolled his eyes, seeming to have recovered from the violent sneeze.

“I don’t get sick Kristoff. Not one fever in my life.” Hans reassured him. “And besides, _the heat never led me to go astray.”_ He went back to song and moved his hand in a quick lifting motion, just as he always did when he dressed himself. Only this time, on a much grander scale.

His blood red inner seam became more of a burgundy not unlike what Kristoff’s sash was, the color carrying up to his undershirt, the red sparkling like sewn in rubies. His coal black vest, boots and outer layer of breeches became more of a jet black, more dark and pronounced. His cape completely dissolved away into something else entirely. A glass necklace of black beads trailed around the thirteenth prince’s neck, stopping at a pendant that was shaped like a flame, the pendent glowing from the magma infused within it.

“Fancy.” Was all Kristoff could say, having never seen Hans dress with his powers before.

“Thank you. But this is for you, after all.” Hans took the pendant off and gave it to his lover, the necklace still warm. But as Kristoff strapped it around his neck, something else happened to his attire.

Hans could only smile as trails of magma curled around Kristoff’s black jacket, leaving several orange glowing trails that ran up and down his shirt in intricate swirling patterns. The drop trails jumped at the right places, ending at the iceman's jacket cuffs and forming golden cufflinks. In all honesty, Kristoff could only gape at Hans. He had so many questions as to how his friend had done it and infused his powers in a necklace; but he was too excited to care.

With a flick of his wrist, a golden orange thread materialized between the prince’s fingers, the trail easy to spot as it ran like a gunpowder trail out the door from Kristoff’s room and off into the halls of the Southern Isles palace.           

“Just follow it.” Hans chuckled lightly.

  
“Wait, what?” Kristoff asked back. He could only guess where that thread would lead him.


End file.
